My job brings me joy.

Joy, and laughter. Every single day.

Every.
Single.
Day.

1. Tyler stands in the kitchen, his back to me. Just as I stomp on the base of the (light aluminum) pedal bin, he turns around and gets the (light aluminum) lid of the bin — whang! — smack on his forehead. He blinks in surprise.

2. Nissa is tottering busily about in the sandbox of our local park. Some older kids have dug a hole and then filled it in again before leaving, but even so, there is a noticeable hollow. Nissa has managed to totter into the hollow… and can’t get out again.

She struggles to ascend the 10-cm, 25-degree slope, and ends up sitting on her little butt, every time.

Being the loving caregiver that I am, I…

A. Swoop in with a coo and a cuddle and some comfort?

B. Show them how to help themselves?

C. Ignore them until they figure it out?

Or…

D. Laugh myself breathless.

The answer is D, of course. If I’m lucky, there are adults in the vicinity who can share the joy. Then I get to laugh — and point, too!